Page 43 of The Orc of Wall Street

“Hey, Tarek?” Gage is on the other end, and he sounds a bit uneasy. “Uh, sorry to call you so early, but, uh, it’s sort of a big deal.”

“What is it?” I sit upright, and Sloane slumps back against the throw pillows with a sleepy whine.

“Craig’s new advertising campaign just launched online,” Gage says. “Tarek… It’s identical to our latest project.”

My phone cracks from the way my grip on it tightens. I guess yesterday wasn’t a fluke after all.

CHAPTER 22

Sloane

The copycat product was only the beginning of our bad luck. A week later, Craig launched an ad campaign that looked almost identical to the one Gage had been working on for a month.

All the computers went down for a whole day, and it took me hours to get to the root of the problem. Finally, I found a virus that had me working hours more to untangle and restore our systems.

And then of course there were the stolen shipments. So many stolen shipments that Tarek ended up having to hire twice the security that he usually had.

Every time something was stolen or wrecked or there was a virus, Tarek and I would spend hours brainstorming how to fix it. We’d come up with plan after plan and then implement them.

And for a while, they work. But only for a little while before Craig and his spies, thieves, and gangsters somehow find a way around our carefully crafted plans.

By this point, I know it’s not just bad luck. It has to be the spy. The very same one who left the ominous message for me. They have to know what I’m going to do somehow.

“But how?” I murmur to myself as I lean back in the chair in my little cubicle. “And who?”

I’d all but eliminated everyone on Tarek’s list, and yet now they all seem to be acting strangely.

Last week, Angel was out sick for a day, and that very same day a shipment was expertly stolen. Nothing had turned up from me trailing her, and she hadn’t met with Craig the night of the gala. But what if she’d been tipped off and had simply been careful ever since?

We’ve also had several ad leaks now, which means Gage could very well be feeding them directly to Craig. I’d eliminated him because he wasn’t on the phone when Craig spoke to the spy, but maybe Craig had only been talking to someone relaying a message.

Lewis is acting on edge and keeping his distance more than usual. He can hardly look at me when we eat together lately. If he was the spy and figured out who I was, it would make sense for him to keep his distance.

It isn’t just the people on the list, either. There are more of my co-workers that give me pause. Alistair, one of the data analysts, began suddenly popping into my cubicle to say hi or to chat. It had only started after the ominous message. Before that, he’d hardly spoken to me.

I let out a long sigh and begin to finish my reports for the day so Angel doesn’t yell at me. Maybe I can just get these done and go home early. Maybe take an evening to myself to reorient.

A knock on my cubicle has me jumping from my chair, and I whirl to see who’s there. Amber stands just outside my cubicle with a sheepish smile on her face. “Hey, sorry to bother you.”

I relax a bit. “It’s okay. What’s up?”

“I was actually wondering if you could do me a big favor. I have reports that are due to give to Valentina in like five minutes, but I’m swamped right now. Would you mind handing them in for me?”

I shrug. “Sure, no problem.”

Amber grins and holds out the folder with the reports to me. “Thank you so much! I’ll totally buy you lunch tomorrow.”

I laugh as I snatch the folder. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get them in.”

After Amber goes back to her cubicle, I make my way to Valentina’s office. Her door is open just a crack, like she’d meant to close it but hadn’t quite done so. I reach to push it open when I hear Valentina’s voice, low and hard.

“I don’t see why that’s relevant.” Her tone isn’t one I’ve heard her use. She’s usually so calm and unflinching. But her tone now is agitated, bordering on angry. Who in the world could make her lose her composure?

I pause and wait, leaning as close to the crack in the door as I dare. There’s another voice on the other side of the line, but I can’t tell much from it. Only that it’s male.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” the VP snaps. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

My brows furrow. What does that mean? Doing what? Her job? I don’t know a soul who would dare question Valentina on her work ethic.

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